


Sparkling Angel by Meiriona

by GO_Library_archivist



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drama, Gen, M/M, Religion, Romance, Slash, Spiritual, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/pseuds/GO_Library_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, things do not end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparkling Angel by Meiriona

**Author's Note:**

> Note from [Quantum_Witch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/profile): This story was originally archived at [The Good Omens Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Good_Omens_Library), which I maintained for eight years until I closed it due to lack of funds and decreased usership. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing the GOL's stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in July 2013. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Good Omens Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TheGoodOmensLibrary/profile), or through the [GO_Library_archivist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/profile) account.

[Sparkling Angel](viewstory.php?sid=399) by [Meiriona](viewuser.php?uid=115)

 

  
Summary: Sometimes, things do not end well.  
Inspired in part by a picture of the same name by emeraldfire2065 and by the Within Temptation Song "Angels"  
Categories: [General Fanfic](browse.php?type=categories&catid=1), [Slash Fanfic](browse.php?type=categories&catid=3) Characters:  Aziraphale, Crowley, other angels  
Genres:  Angst, Drama, General, Romance, Spiritual/Religious, Tragedy/Deathfic  
Warnings:  Character Death, Angst (mild)  
Challenges:  
Series: None  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes  
Word count: 1168 Read: 248  
Published: 04 Aug 2008 Updated: 04 Aug 2008

 

Spakling Angel by Meiriona

 

Author's Notes:

It's ain't happy, it ain't pretty, and it made me cry to write it. Thanks to emeraldfire2065 of Y!gallery for inspiring this.

 

Aziraphale tripped. And he very nearly Fell. What stopped him was luck that could only be called divine. Aziraphale, who had guarded the eastern gate of Eden, who now was the Principality set over all of Western Europe, with particular attention paid to England out of personal taste rather than duty, had almost Fallen out of sheer carelessness. What he had done would have been forgiven in a human, indeed, had been forgiven in humans time and again. But he wasn't so naive.

He?d trusted the Serpent. He'd thought himself safe from taint, he knew Crowley, knew him better than anyone. That was the problem, of course. Aziraphale knew him _too_ well, and when the occasion came for them to know each other completely, in every sense, Aziraphale tripped.

There was no way Crowley was ignorant of the consequences very nearly visited on the angel. He must have been aware even before Aziraphale was. And that was what hurt the most. The loving smile as he'd stuck out the metaphorical foot (tail), reader and eager to watch him plummet Down. The, the _fiend_ had deceived him, worse than he had Eve. Had enticed him with dreams rather than fruit, with knowledge of a different sort. Lies. The Arrangement was most assuredly no more, and Aziraphale was going to repay Crowley's betrayal in kind.

He was going to contact heaven, get someone higher up to come and pass judgement. Gabriel probably would be all too happy. He couldn't use his shop, Crowley, no, the demon, might come looking for him there. He didn't want to see him again, not until he was leading a small army of the Heavenly Host straight to his door. So he was going to a place where no agent of Hell would ever think to look for him, and where that particular agent couldn't go, on account of it having belonged to another A. Crowley, a self styled demon who Aziraphale knew for a fact was in Heaven*. He would be assured of a chance to make his call uninterrupted.

*This was because both Heaven and Hell, having a sense of irony, had decided that Aleister Crowley could not be tormented any more than by an eternity singing celestial harmonies.

 

So, having winged his way to the site of many a black mass and drug filled orgy, Aziraphale set up a summoning circle that made quite the dent in the blasphemy on those grounds. He stepped into the circle and said the Words.

"What is it you want this time?" Came the voice of a rather irritated Metatron. Apparently some where still annoyed about the near miss apocalypse some years ago. Aziraphale felt tears well up in his eyes as he sank to his knees and told his pitiful tale, begging for forgiveness at every pause. It was a pitiful sight to see an angel crying. They look all too mortal, bleary eyes and streaming tears and snot, and voices warble with emotions normally purely aesthetic.

The Metatron was simply the voice, not one who dealt with PR matters. It was true he had been the one to comfort many a repentant or scared follower, and much was done to comfort Aziraphale, even calling him by his Name in the Enochian tongue and assuring him that justice would be carried out. On consulting the hours it was found to be that of Michael, which was good in that it was not Gabriel, who was known to over indulge before battle and who was privately regarded as the inspiration for Thor. Preference would have has it Cassiel, but as it was things weren't a bad as they could be. Michael, knowing well the nature of the fallen angel Gadreel, who did associate with those known as Jeqon and Asbeel, and Penemue, and Kasdeja who did teach abortions most cruel, and more, did bring with him no less than six cherubim, and bid Aziraphale lead them to the one who tempted Eve and who sought the same of one of the heavenly ranks.

And so Aziraphale once more took flight, with anger in his eyes and sorrow in his heart, across the night sky with seven of the High Host following, to cross England and return to Crowley's flat.

He took a cruel satisfaction in hearing the crunch as Michael used the Bentley as a landing strip. "You need not see this, however he may have wronged you, you did love him." Michael said, a sword of flames in one hand, the other placed on the shoulder of the shaking Aziraphale.

"No," Aziraphale said, drawing up his courage. "I will be there. I will see this through. And then, I shall return with you."

Michael nodded, and followed as Aziraphale ascended the steps for a final time. As he did, his wings manifested, and he became clad in the robes of his station. By the time he reached the door he was glowing with divine light.

The door was blasted off its hinges, and Aziraphale strode in, almost missing his own flaming sword. Crowley was on the phone, apparently leaving grovelling messages. His face lit with joy to see Aziraphale, which quickly turned to dread as Michael and the cherubim entered.

"What?" it was so soft it was barely a whisper. "Gadreel," Michael boomed, "Thou hast been commended by Hell for thy wicked deeds, and thus far Heaven hast let thy damnation serve as punishment enough. But now thou must answer for a deed more foul than thou hast committed ever before." The pure Enochian language was taking its toll on Crowley. He'd crumpled to the ground, wings wrapped around him in a futile attempt to block out the words.

"Thou hast tempted an angel near to falling, and as he came pleading forgiveness and justice, thou must answer for this crime. To deceive and corrupt humans is thy nature and can be overlooked, but thy actions against this one can not be. The Justice of the Lord will be Served."

Crowley knew then that it was all over. Everything they could do to you in Hell would not amount to this. He could swim an ocean of Holy water and it would not compare. That would leave something. This wouldn't. Termination, pure and simple.

"Aziraphale," he pleaded, already feeling the scorching head of holy fire, "please."

And Aziraphale knelt down beside him and gathered Crowley into his arms and kissed him fully and thoroughly, a terrifying eternity, and when he pulled away he stepped back and nodded to Michael, who raised his sword as Gadreel mouthed a word that could have been 'love', and then was no more.

Aziraphale wept, and each tear brought about a hundred tiny miracles. He returned to Heaven, let himself be lost in the Presence, and never more did he speak, eyes forever shining with tears, the last breath of his beloved still within him.

Forever.

 

 

End Notes:

I didn't want this to be my first posted work here, but there it is.

 

 

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://library.good-omens.net/viewstory.php?sid=399>


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